“No,” said she, to herself; “it must not be.”

Then the chance of his winning began to take hold, and her pulses tingled, and the spirit verge spoke in the voice of an ancestor:

“Yes,” whispered she, inaudibly, though the fire shone from her eyes as it had a Taira’s ages ago.

Esyo paled at the thought: Jokoin bounded up, proposing:

“Shall I shout it aloud, sister?”

“Jokoin!” commanded Esyo; how can you so profane things? Yodogima has not yet invoked understanding: neither flesh nor spirit alone satisfies conscience.”

For the moment Yodogima seemingly forgot the terrible test that raged and calmed alternately within. Facing Esyo, and penetrating with only a glance the thin gauze veiling a sister’s underlying purpose, Yodogima said, complacently, though firmly:

“One would think this solely a matter of yours, Esyo. Possibly you had best answer instead, that I may learn also your pleasure; and, perchance, the motive.”

Esyo flushed, and Yodogima read her as written.

“Come closer, Jokoin; I want to feel the warmth and cheer of your presence; it is an inspiration, if not a reason: Esyo is so cold; oh, so unsatisfying, yet also inspiring. Between the two of you I am thrust back upon heart, and shall answer neither ‘yes’ nor ‘no.’ Let them fight, if they will, but tell them, both alike, that they are men: that Yodogima shall let neither one answer to his God for a mistake of hers. It is a woman’s province to bear and not to succor man. Good-bye, and when you have need for comfort and less to know then come again; I love you both.”